


Hard Day's Night

by NikaAnuk



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Bond tries to be funny, I have no idea what happened, M/M, a bit pissed off even, but Q isn't impressed, it shouldn't be that long, mention about crossdressing, more shitty action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:18:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaAnuk/pseuds/NikaAnuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An action in Russia, Bond doesn't cooperate and Q regrets his decision of becoming his handler. Also some crossdressing, one death and seductive agent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Day's Night

**Author's Note:**

> The title and the quote is from 'Hard Day's Night' by Beatles.   
> Thanks for Jellybean for beta!

 

_It's been a hard day's night And I've been workin' like a dog  
It's been a hard day's night I should be sleepin' like a log_

 

1.

“Or I can just blow it up,” Bond offered the silence on the other site of earpiece. It gained him a huff of irritation; this was at least better than the silence that normally came with working with Q.

“If you don't mind,” the Quartermaster said. “I'm almost done here. Give me like... Three more minutes and I'll open it...”

“I hate to ruin this for you, Q, but I _don't have_ three minutes. I can hear them.”

“Yes, they're coming. Three people, one has gun, the other two are bodyguards.”

‘ _Which_ _means they have guns too_ ,’ Bond thought, turning at the end of the corridor. He could hear them and he had no intention to chat.

Without hesitation – you have to know when to pull the trigger – he turned around and shot at the panel next to the door and then at the lock.

“What?!” Q cried, but Bond still continued to run down the hall then took to the nearest flight of stairs down.

Q's voice in his ear was complaining, shouting but not giving him any information so he just took out the earpiece; covering his head with his arm when they started to shoot at him. That was fun.

He ran down the stairs as quick as he could, they stopped shooting for a bit and followed him so he raised his gun and aimed at the closet one. The curse from above told him that he hit.

The stairs provide lead to the underground parking lot. He shot the other lock as well and ran outside. The closest car was a black Mazda and Bond winced. A bit further off stood good old Mercedes and without hesitation he jumped behind the Mazda. They ran from the staircase a second later and he shot at them; one by one. Feeling a bit disappointed, he then went to the Mercedes and opened it.

Sitting in the driver seat – at the left, not right side – he put on his earpiece again.

“I'm in the car, where is Trevorski?” he asked.

“I'm sending coordinates to your phone.” Q's voice was cold and professional, with a hint a of fury sneaking in. Q hated to be cut off like this.

Now, Bond winced driving out of the car park; he waited a bit until someone was leaving and followed after him. The barrier hit the roof of the car, but he passed by it.

“I've lost it.” he said.

There was more silence and then his GPS just woke up. Someone interpose the road into the system. He smiled a bit and followed the instructions.

 

 

Q took a long calming sip of his tea and swore again. That was the worst thing he had ever done. Saying to them that he wanted to do something big, that he wanted a challenge... Bloody hell. And they gave him Bond. From all of Interpol, they gave him Bond! He shook his head and looked at the screen. The red dot was Bond moving through the city, probably faster than he should, in a stolen car. And it was always like this.

Before every mission he got new equipment, new weapons, a new locating sender, literally new everything! He was always losing this, that or the other thing. Forgetting to take it and Q has to send people around the world – wherever Bond was – to clean up after him so no maid or hostess will found a gun or a phone which is a small computer, that Q was so proud of and...!

He clenched his fists. Since he started to work with Bond he was so frustrated he could not even sleep. Not like he had time. It was three in the morning for example and he highly doubted he would go to sleep tonight. Bond could need his help... or not. To tell the truth, sometimes he doubted if Bond even was aware how much work has been done here, in headquarters; more than likely not. He sighed once more, taking another sip of tea and looked at the screen again. And there was no Bond.

He almost choked on the tea. Leaning towards the screen he started to search for the last picture of the car. Bond reached his destination and then he just disappeared. They had to have jammed his signal. Bloody hell!

Working furiously he started to check to see if he can find a frequency which they could not jam. And for that moment, Bond will be all alone.

 

 

“Q?” He tried once more; again with no answer. He just sighed and changed the magazine. It's not like he needed him, right? He was here before Q even started to play his computer games so why should he care?

He adjusted his jacket and hid his gun. With a self-confident smile on his face he entered the main hall and walked to the door.

The casino was full of people, beautiful women and men you wouldn’t want to piss off. And Bond knew he would be bleeding at the end of the evening.

One of the security guards stopped him before he could enter the play room.

“Do you have your invitation?” he asked in English, his strong Russian accent bleeding through.

Bond smiled and reached to his inner pocket to take out the envelope which he got from Q the day before. He handed it to the man and received it back after the man read it.

“Welcome, Mr. Bond.” He said, bowing a little and opening the door for him.

007 smiled and walked into the room. The smell of cigars and perfume was quite pleasant and familiar to the agent. Bond looked around at the people sitting at the tables. He smelt a distinct perfume becoming stronger when he felt some take the small ear piece out of his ear.

“No need to keep it here,” he heard lilt voice behind him.

Raising his eyebrows he turned and smiled seeing a tall, blond woman in beautiful dress. Or more likely a young man looking like a young woman and that was even more interesting.

“No need to hide it.” He said, wrapping his arm around his waist. “I would be interested anyway.”

“We weren't sure.” The voice was low, but not masculine and the leg visible through the dress' slit looked amazing.

“What's your name?”

“Sasha. Please, enjoy my company.” Another smile, looking into his eyes, Bond could believe that this really was a young woman...

“So, where can I find Trevorski?” He asked, leading the young man towards the bar.

“You should know that people who _ask_ to meet with him rarely came out alive. The only thing that counts is if _he_ wants to see you, James.”

'James' was soft, very calm and followed with a hand on his thigh. He should not enjoy himself that much, but Sasha leaned bit closer, showing the back of his neck and the long, gold chain brushing against fair skin. To hide the Adam's apple, Sasha had a beautiful gold collar with pearls and the long chain was almost touching his lower back… A very tempting trinket.

“Unfortunately I must insist.” He said, reaching for the pearls. “I would give anything to stay with you but...”

“I don't need much, for I'm yours if you choose me over Trevorski.” Sasha smiled.

“I'm here for Trevorski.”

Bond caressed the delicate skin on Sasha's shoulder. He smiled pleased, the way the young man was looking at him made him almost regret his decision. Almost.

“I can convince you, James.” The way he purred his name sent Bond a nice shiver down his spin.

“Unfortunately. Not now. First I need to finish my job. Maybe I'll find you later.” He smiled and kissed Sasha on the cheek. “Where's Trevorski?” He whispered.

Sasha stood up.

“I want to dance.”

“Ladies first.” 007 smiled and followed him onto the dance floor.

“He's not here yet. He's coming around four to collect the money and to find someone for the evening.” Sasha explained with a lovely smile. “You can meet him then or wait until tomorrow.”

“I don't have time. I need to see him tonight.”

“Then go to the barman” Sasha purred into his ear. “And tell him you want to see the top floor. Pay him five thousands and he will let you in. But as I said, no one has ever come back.”

James let his hands slip around Sasha's body. He was definitely a man – judging by his hips and arms – but he looked like a woman and that was amazing, thrilling even.

“How about you?” He murmured into blond locks. “Where can I find you?”

“I'll be dead tonight.” Sasha answered. “I'm afraid there is nothing you can do.”

“Why?”

“Because my job is to keep you away from Trevorski. If I fail they'll kill me.”

Bond smiled looking around carefully.

“I'm sure we can do something about that.” He said softly and brushed his fingers along his back. “I would really like to see you again.”

Sasha brought his lips to Bond's ear. “Then don't go there.” He whispered.

“Okay.”

Sasha looked at him with a surprise. “Really?”

“I am very keen to spend the night with you.” He admitted and smiled at Sasha.

 

Q was dying; he spent two hours trying to find the way into the casino network. And he failed what was both terrifying and thrilling. His bloody agent disappeared and he was probably fucking some hot woman right now. Or – if Q was really unlucky – he was lying somewhere dead, or the police would find his dead body tomorrow in the river... He shook his head. No. Calm your mind, Q, try to think.

The problem was that he could not do anything else then just try. And that was awful. He could not use his brain, he could not ask for help. It was only him and the computer. Normally he would be glad, but this time he was worried.

Okay. One more time. There has to be a way to get into the network. Anything. Absolutely anything. He bit his lip and searched again, but the casino was a dead place on his map and he scowled in irritation. He had the view from satellites and he started to look for Bond. He could at least find him if he decided to go out. If he is still alive of course.

And some time later he really found him.

With a woman, heading to the car. Really. He almost cried. This bloody idiot almost gave him a heart attack and now he was just playing with some random woman! Yeah, it looked absolutely like double-oh agent's work. Bloody hell.

He focused on the satellite view not wanting to lose Bond again. They used the stolen car – stupid decision – and headed north. Q connected to the GPS again and showed the way to the nearest hotel where he could talk to Bond. The agent was nice enough to follow the instructions and soon they were leaving the car and walking inside. And Q still had him on the cameras and he could tell that agent was all right, and that the woman... was not quite a woman.

When they walked into the lift, Bond looked direct at the camera and he smiled. The bastard knew that his nice girl was a guy and he enjoyed it. That was interesting. Q made a mental note and skipped this part. He would try to contact Bond, but there was no way for that. At least not until he got onto a screen.

They walked into room and Q lost them. He sighed and occupied himself with other work until he heard James' voice.

“Q?”

The Quartermaster looked at the clock and ran a hand through his face. It was five in the morning.

“Yes, 007?”

“You still there?”

“Yes. How can I help you?”

“I know where Trevorski is. I'm going to find him.”

“Well, good to know you still remember about your job, 007.”

“I'm doing my job, Q, in my way.”

Q sighed rolled his eyes and tapped on the keyboard. It was good to have Bond back even if he would never say it out loud.

“Where is Trevorski?”

“Now? In his club probably. He always goes around his clubs at the end of the day. The last one is Norwegian Star, the place where police and few people from army come over for girls. And it's not protected.”

“Good, I'll track you there. Stay in the touch, will you?”

“Of course. And Q, would you do something to me?”

“Probably.”

“This boy in the bed. Could you take him out of here?”

Q frowned.

“You want me to do what?”

“I need to take him away from here. If you won't help me I have to do this on my own. And that might be dangerous.”

“You really want risk the whole operation for one cute guy?”

“I promised it to him.”

Q sighed and looked at the screen.

“I'll find him a plane, but you have to explain it to M later. Why are we taking care of your whores?”

“Q, watch your mouth. Sasha, I'm leaving you here. Give me your phone number.”

Q tapped it in the computer and a minute later he called him.

“Q, take care of him, will you? And I'll contact you soon.”

The connection with agent was dead once more and Q sighed. Great; now he was booking a flight for some Russian whore.

 

Bond sat down in his car and slowly drove to the Norwegian Star. The place was a small, dirty dive. He stopped in front of a shop with a sign claiming it was open for 24 hours.

“I'm here,” he said, stopping in front of selection of various alcohol.

“I have you on camera. Trevorski is in the dive, he showed up some time ago. He's with two men. They're sitting in the room above the main area. You know that this is the job for a sniper, right?”

“We don't have one... Which car?”

“Black Maybach, it’s in the small alley nearby. Secured; one driver and one guard.”

“Good, then I'll take care of them.”

He picked up a bottle of vodka and paid for it. Then he walked to his car, looking around. He saw the Maybach and he walked towards it. The bodyguard was smoking by the car and he watched Bond as he walked closer.

He only smiled raising the bottle and coming to him. “Do you have a light?” he asked, showing at the cigarette. The man reached for his pocket and Bond caught him, dropped him on his knees and broke his neck. Looking around he left the body on the ground and walked to the driver's window. He knocked at it and the window slid down.

“Greetings, from Mr. Trevorski.” He smiled and handed him the bottle. When the man looked at him with a surprise, Bond hit him with it twice leaving the man stunned with bleeding nose.

Bond leaned over the window and opened the door. He bumped the man again so he did not move. And then he just took the bodyguard's body and left it into the boot and came back to the driver sit. He waited until Trevorski came out with his people and drove closer to them. Trevorski sat in and then Bond drove away before any of the bodyguards could get in. He locked the doors and looked at him through the back rear view mirror.

“Mr. Trevorski.”

“Who are you?” The man said calmly. James liked him for that.

“My name is Bond, James Bond. And I have few questions.”

“Then I invite you to my place. We can talk there.”

“I have a place, it's secured.” Bond heard Q. “Are you sure you want to go there?”

“I believe we can talk here, Mr. Trevorski. I just wanted to ask where the girl is.”

“What girl, Mr. Bond?” The man raised his eyebrow and lit a cigarette.

“A daughter of British PM disappeared on her trip to Russia. And as far as we know, she was seen with one of your men. The last time we had any information about her she was here in Moscow. The man who was here to protect here was found dead. Surely, you see how awful the situation is.”

“I'm sorry to tell you this, but I have no information about this girl.”

They were driving in circles. Bond soon noticed that they were being followed, but stayed calm.

“Siergiej Aristow. The man's name.” Said Q.

“Siergiej Aristow, do you know him?”

“I don't know. I could ask about him if you let me contact my men.”

“They met in your hotel, the man was a manager there. I do believe that since you keep your business in such good order, that you would have tabs on all your employees.”

“Mr. Bond, I have no idea what happened with this girl but I assure you, I have nothing to do with it. I have no intention to start a war with the British Government. The man you speak about disappeared as well and we are looking for him. If we find the girl we will inform you.” Agent 007 watched the man for a moment. He was calm and he looked at Bond without fear. “It's only one girl and I would never risk my businesses for something so trivial. There would be no reason, right?”

Bond nodded.

“We’re going back.” He said to Q and the Quartermaster answered a moment later.

“Drive at the airport, I have plane ready for you.”

“Just one small trip to keep myself safe.” He said to the man and did what he was told.

They arrived at the airport an hour later. Bond parked the car and looked at Trevorski.

“I hope you find the one responsible alive, along with the girl.”

“I'll let you know.” The man said.

Bond nodded and got out of the car, and to the airport. Cars stopped around them, but Trevorski let him pass.

“Do you really think...?”

“Yes, Q. Decisions, remember? It's all about making decisions on the field. You have no idea.”

“But I booked you the flight back to England so wait in the line for check in and play nice, what do you think?”

“I'm sure there is at least one stewardess who would be more than glad to take me with her.”

“You're absolutely unbearable. The gate number three.”

“Of course I am. You love me for it. Over.”

 

2.

Q closed his eyes for a moment. It was twenty past six and he was still here; with little to no hope of getting some rest. Bond was safe – more or less, he was Bond after all, he was a hazard to himself – and he was coming home. Also Sasha – or whatever his name was – was safe and on his way to a better life.

Q left the computer on and took off his glasses. He sat down on the couch off to the side of his office; taking a blanket he laid down with a sigh. He did not know how tired he was until he closed his eyes. Within the matter of a minute he was asleep.

And when he woke up, he almost jumped. There was Bond, in his office, walking around the computers and looking at them with interest.

“Don’t touch it.” He warned and sat up.

“Morning.” Bond turned to him and smiled. “I brought you coffee and breakfast, since you shouldn't drink the coffee on empty stomach.”

Q sat up and rubbed his face. No, Bond wasn't the person which he wanted to see this early in the morning... Or maybe not that early? He looked at the wrist watch; it was three in the afternoon.

“Yes, you were in a deep sleep, I didn't want to wake you up.”

“So, you do care. Who would have thought?”

The Quartermaster stood up and yawned still a bit drowsy.

“Shouldn't you be somewhere else? Where’s your new friend?”

“I have no idea. I was a bit busy, you know, coming back from Russia. Long shower, change of clothes, visit the swimming pool, and of course had to take a trip to the café for you.”

Q groaned at the smile agent gave him. He sat down at the table and reached for the coffee. He hated coffee.

“No, no, no.” Bond smiled. “Breakfast first, remember?”

“I don't eat, before my first Earl Grey.” Q murmured.

007 nodded.

“Fine, then we’re going to get you a fine cup of Earl Grey, then breakfast, and then maybe you can stop being so grumpy.”

He handed Q his jacket and the Quartermaster stood up obediently.

“I'm not grumpy, 007.” He said, not reacting when Bond took the coffee and ate the croissant on his way out.

“Yes you are.”

Q signed the book and walked out of the building to the car that was waiting for them. Without a word he got in. He was cold, his neck was killing him and he really felt bad after the few hours of sleep. A lot of them actually, his brain told him. He slept more than eight hours. And that observation itself meant that he is coming back to normal.

 

They stopped in one small café. Q did not know the place, he thought about _Costa_ , maybe _Pret A Manger_ – somewhere he would normally go. Instead of this place, where he was sitting in a comfortable – maybe a bit too comfortable – armchair and drinking a big cup of Earl Grey, just like he liked. And finally he took out his smart phone and started to search the web.

“Well, I see you feel better.” Said Bond taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, yes, thank you very much. How about breakfast?”

“I thought you could invite me for breakfast.”

“You mean dinner?” Q looked at him from above the smart phone.

“Well, if you insist...”

The Quartermaster chuckled, but said nothing after that. He still had his tea and that single fact made him more than happy, so he saw no reason to move from his place.

Eventually they ended up in Q's flat. Not like he invited 007, more like Bond just drove him home and then followed him on the second floor to his tiny flat. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to kick him out: he mentioned once or twice that he needed to change and go back at work, but... 007 just did not listen to him. As always.

And, while Q was taking shower and changing his crumpled clothes, Bond was wandering around the flat, touching stuff and looking at books and few photos Q kept in the flat.

“You didn’t change that much since you were in your teens.” Bond said when the Quartermaster came into small kitchen, cleaning off his glasses.

“Well, it wasn’t that long ago, after all.” He said.

“I was wondering, how you look like in those pyjamas of yours, before your first cup of Earl Grey?”

“Isn't it too early for you to be asking about my pyjamas?” Q frowned opening the laptop standing on the kitchen counter. He ordered a meal online and looked at the man.

“I'm glad you don't want to feed me the things you have in the fridge.”

“You were really bored, weren't you? Did you find anything interesting?”

“A lot of things actually.”

“You're lying.” Said Q, straightening and putting the kettle on. “I don't have coffee, only tea.”

“That’s fine. And you would be really surprised what one can find.”

“Surprise me then, 007.”

Bond shot him a smile.

“Not before the dinner.”

“It's on its way, you have to wait. Where did this interest in my being come from?”

He handed Bond a cup of tea and took the milk out of the fridge.

“You want some?”

“Yes, please.”

“So…?” Q walked to the living room and sat down on the couch.

Q's flat was mostly used to keep his clothes and tea. He rarely used it to anything else. More for shower then for sleep since he had a couch in his office. He preferred to eat in a restaurant so he rarely had to cook. If MI6 would not give him a flat, he would probably still live in his tiny office. But since he had become head of the Q Branch he got the flat he wanted – which was a really small one, thanks to the money he had to spend on new gadgets – and he even sometimes used it.

“So?” Bond sat next to him with his cup.

“My question, Bond. Why are you so interested in my pyjamas.”

Bond smirked – of course – and took a sip of his tea.

“I heard a jealousy in your voice, when we were talking about Sasha.”

Q raised his eyebrow almost chuckling. He drank some of his tea avoiding the answer for a longer moment.

“So?” The agent looked at him.

“So?”

“Am I right?”

“About me being jealous about you, 007? Don't be ridiculous. You're my agent and nothing more.”

“ _Your_ agent?” Bond smiled. “How many of you call agents 'theirs'?” He chuckled.

The doorbell saved Q from having to answer. He took his wallet and headed to the door leaving Bond on the couch.

“Come here and eat!” Q called from the kitchen few minutes later.

“So?”

“So what, 007?”

Bond sighed and sat down at the table. He accepted the plate with risotto and mushrooms without question. They ate in silence, Q again busy with his smart phone.

“I need to go back...” He said to himself.

“I thought I’d have you for myself for a day.”

“A bit possessive aren't we, 007?” He shot him a short glance.

“You are _my_ quartermaster after all, right?”

This time Q was the one who snorted, but he did not abort his work. Bond ate – and judging by the speed he did it he probably was really hungry – watching the young man with a smile, he was more interested in his smart phone than the food. After a moment or two, James reached and gently took the equipment from his hand.

“Are you aware that I was working on a case?”

“You work too much, Q. What's your real name?”

The Quartermaster raised his eyebrows for the first time, surprised. He rested his chin on his hand with a smile.

“I would never have thought you would be interested in such a thing.”

“Well, you said 'surprise me'.”

“My name is Caleb, Caleb Holmes.”

James laughed.

“Couldn't stop yourself?”

“I always wanted to say it.” Q chuckled.

“So... Caleb, if that really is your name.”

“It is.”

“Can I convince you to not go back to work?”

“Will you answer my question?”

“Will you?”

They looked at each other for a moment before Q sighed.

“A few of them, yes.”

“I may have a soft spot on the young brainiacs with fluffy hair.”

“With what?!” Q looked at him with true horror.

“You know, your hair.” Bond nodded toward it. “It's fluffy.”

“If this is the way you try to impress women, it is a wonder on how you succeed.”

Bond smirked and stood up to put his plate into sink.

“Let's just say that usually I'm not nervous.”

“Should I be flattered?” Q chuckled, but Bond leaned over the table, watching him. “I see that maybe I should be.”

“The truth is this, Q. You're incredibly unprepared for field work, you're too young for this and with your life style you will not survive here for long. But you are also – what I can't understand – strangely attractive.”

Q frowned and stood up, he passed by him in the small kitchen and put the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Really, 007? _Strangely attractive_? I may be a bit _young_ , but I doubt this is the way you should talk to people...”

Bond chuckled and wrapped his arm around Q's waist, standing behind him. The Quartermaster tensed, but did not move out.

“I'm sorry. But I really have a soft spot for you.” James murmured into his ear. “And I still think your hair is fluffy. But that's fine. You _are_ my quartermaster.”

“I could accuse you of the sexual harassment.” The Quartermaster said weakly.

“I would love to see you try...” The agent rested his chin on Q's shoulder. “I would like to see you do a lot of things.”

“Stop that, 007.”

“My name is...”

“I know your name, remember? I've read your files.”

“Then why can't you use it?”

Q looked at him from above his shoulder.

“Because I don't want to, 007.”

Bond moved away.

“Then I should not try to change our relationship. I'm sorry I misunderstood.”

Q turned around and chuckled.

“The great James Bond, _ashamed_? I can hardly believe that.”

“I told you Q.” Agent watched him. “It's bit harder with you.”

“And do you think that changing in our _relationship_ will make anything easier?”

“Not at all. Don't make me beg, Q.”

“Would you? I would love to see it.”

Bond broke the distance coming closer, but not touching.

“ _Please_ , Q.” He wrapped his arms around the man's waist again. “Please?”

“This is very unprofessional, you know that?”

“M won't know...”

Bond lowered his head, his face was inches away from Q's. He had crow's feet while he was smiling and Q just couldn't stop himself from touching his cheek. With an interest he brushed his fingers against his skin, discovering small scars. It was more curiosity than anything, not that James minded at all.

“She probably already knows.” Q said, caressing Bond's lips.

007 smiled and licked the finger lightly.

“Please.” He whispered and Q gave up because it was hard not to when James was so close and when he was so keen to get what he wanted.

“You owe me, _James_.” He said and Bond smiled at him.

He leaned over slowly and kissed him, keeping him close.

 

 


End file.
